


reflections still look the same to me

by tinteonice



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, BAMF Harry, Character Development, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Fate & Destiny, Idealistic Harry Potter, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Tom, Some humor tho, Soul Bond, Soulmates, The Power Of Love, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, we don't take ourselves too seriously in this house
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:26:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23943883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinteonice/pseuds/tinteonice
Summary: When he was a child, he was lying in his bed and pictured killing his soulmate, feeling the power that came from not needing someone. Revenging himself on the soulmate that had come far too late to save him. But the soulmate never came, and his wand found no soulmate to kill.Maybe his soulmate had sensed his true nature and had kept away from him. Someone that was bonded to Voldemort would be clever like that.Time Travel & Soulmate AU
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 19
Kudos: 137





	reflections still look the same to me

Lord Voldemort _not Tom Marvolo Riddle_ lived in a world out of grey, symbolically spoken. Grey colors, grey faces, grey desires. Like everything that lacked color, his life depended on contrasts alone. When it was asked what the lord demanded from his followers, he focused on the darker parts inside of him. They painted the picture, after all, while the lighter greys just filled the blanks. And he wasn’t a blank _._

So, he raged. He conquered. He did it all.

All of this he did without a soulmate by his side, of course. He had never put much stock into the things people said he would do or feel, they had always misread him catastrophically. So why would they know what he needed? He couldn’t be compared to ‘normal people’ with their empty lives. When he was a child, he was lying in his bed and pictured killing his soulmate, feeling the power that came from _not needing someone_. Revenging himself on the soulmate that had come far too late to save him. But the soulmate never came, and his wand found no soulmate to kill.

Maybe his soulmate had sensed his true nature and had kept away from him. Someone that was bonded to Voldemort would be clever like that.

Indistinctly, he still remembered creating his first horcrux. He had felt in peace for a moment, like his soul wasn’t supposed to be whole. The feeling had been addictive. It was difficult for him to pinpoint why exactly this was the case. Maybe it was because he had come closer to immortality. Maybe it was because he tore himself apart instead of everything around him. It didn’t really make a difference to him, it was all the same, and still – the search for immortality began to consume him. It became the darkest grey inside of him. Not because he wanted to live forever but because it felt like it would lead to something great. Greater than a defective soul bond.

And _this prophecy_ stood in his way. Harry Potter. A baby and a name, and Lord Voldemort would make sure it would become just a name.

“ _Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead_ –”

“Avada Kedavra.”

Like cutting the strings of a puppet, Harry Potter’s mother fell to the ground. Lord Voldemort didn’t smile and didn't feel regret. Lily Potter hadn’t touched the greys inside of him. No human could anymore.

And just like that, he circled her cooling body and stepped towards the crib. Halfway bored. These were chess figures he took off the board, or even less than that. Especially after its parents were defeated, this baby was utterly defenseless. It couldn’t make a move against him. It couldn’t die in a duel. It could just die.

His eyes trailed over the chubby cheeks and unruly hair.

The baby didn’t even cry. It wasn’t asleep either, which would probably have been a miracle after the screams of its parents. The little boy just looked up to him, maybe with curiosity, as if Lord Voldemort was just an unfamiliar babysitter. That thought was laughable, of course, but Lord Voldemort didn’t do something as lowly as _humor_.

He still felt struck under its glance. Innocent, big, green eyes looked back at him. Green like a snake, like every cloth in Slytherin’s common rooms. An eery feeling of familiarity creeped up on him, but he didn’t care enough to hold onto this impression, assuming that it was because of what the color meant to him.

Lord Voldemort knew that the baby's parents had been soulmates, Peter Pettigrew hadn't stop quacking about it, with small jealous mind. He knew about soulmates as much as he knew about every other important magical subject and for a second, he tried to imagine how it would feel to lose a soulmate that was this young. To be always just one half of a whole, as Lord Voldemort had always been, or at least some people would phrase it like that. They couldn’t live alone like him because they lacked his strength. Barely anyone survived with half a soul for long. If its soulmate were this young, too, they would probably die with this baby.

Losing a soulmate was far worse than lacking one, which made sense - half of the population was born with a younger soulmate. They didn't just die because of that. But separating an already established soul bond, even if both participants didn't know each other... had proven to be quite deadly to most. Only mentally strong people survived it. Voldemort assumed he was one of these people, although he had never consciously known his soulmate to have passed away. But there were spells that could determine if the soulmate was alive and even where they were. These spells belonged to black magic, were difficult to practice, but that had never stopped him. He know for a fact that his soulmate wasn't alive. The last time he had made sure of this he had been forty years old, and such an age difference between soulmates was nearly unheard of. So, he had concluded that his soulmate had died when he was very young because he had always been like that. Soulmate-less./p>

“I wonder if my soulmate died as pathetically.”, he said to himself. He directed his wand towards its forehead and frowned with disgust when its face lightened up. So useless. “I wonder what happened to them, but in the end the result is the same. If they were alive, I would have found them. But not to be together with them.” He didn’t know why he talked to it. It… there was something. Something in him that motivated him to waste more of his time. “Your soulmate, on the other hand… Who knows, maybe they will become like me.”

He hesitated for a moment, letting the thought go through his head. “Hm, unlikely.", he added. "No one is like me. Avada Kedavra.” And just like that, he dismissively said the words.

The curse was green. The eyes that stared up at him were green.

And Lord Voldemort’s beloved ash-like greys turned into a dirty, tortured, _pathetic_ green as the spell mirrored back at him and took nearly all that was left of him.

**\- Four years old -**

“Yer a wizard, Harry.”

They sat in an empty train, clattering through the late night. Despite his fragile age of only four years, Harry was still very much awake.

The boy played nervously with the sleeves of the oversized, worn-out jacket. After Hagrid had appeared out of nowhere on his uncle’s doorstep, a scary stranger, he had pestered Harry to bring more than Dudley’s old jacket. Harry would have liked to take the new electric car, too, but he wouldn’t have dared - even while having Hagrid close behind him. The strange man seemed to frighten his uncle very much so Harry would have probably been okay taking the car, though. And he was unusually gentle to Harry, like a dark-haired, badly groomed Santa Clause.

Harry knew much about Santa Clause because he always tried to make him see how much of a good boy he was, especially when November began and aunt Petunia reminded him daily to do his chores or he would disappoint him again. And Santa Clause always ended up being disappointed – Harry only ever got coal. And he wasn’t even allowed to make fire with it!

He tried to not disappoint this Santa Clause at least.

“What’s a wis… wis…”, Harry tried shyly.

“Wizard.”, Hagrid said and managed to sound very quiet while still barely controlling the thunder in his voice.

“That.”, Harry nodded.

“These horrible people didn’t even tell yeh – “, the man’s voice grew louder and more thunderous, but he immediately stopped talking when he saw Harry shrinking back slightly. Hagrid cleared his throat. “Yer don’t have anythin’ to be scared ‘bout, Harry, swear my favorite socks on it. Life is goin’ to treat yeh well from now on. Big things are goin' to happen.”

“When can I go home?” Harry was worried that his aunt and uncle would be angry with him if he stayed away for too long. He tried to not think about how fast they had pushed him to go with this strange man. He tried not to feel so lonely and abandoned. Being scared never helped.

“Yeh comin’ with me. Yer goin' to meet a very good man. Albus Dumbledore he’s called, and he can’t wait to meet yeh. Sorry it has ter happen that late, should have gone with him right after yer parents…” Hagrid cleared his throat again, visibly uncomfortable.

Harry gaped at him, forgetting his shyness for a moment. “My mom and dad?”, he squeaked. “Do you know them?”

“If I know ‘em! Good people. They were a witch and a wizard like yeh. Yeh know ‘bout magic, at least?”

“Magic? Like… when sleeping beauty was put to sleep by the evil fairy? But magic is ab-so-lute none-sense.” Harry quoted the words exactly the way he had heard his uncle shout them a few times. He didn’t know much about magic but if his uncle was so outraged by it, it had to be bad.

“Nonsense can’t do this!”, Hagrid rumbled, pulled a stick out of his bag and swung it in the air. Harry’s eyes widened with wonder as the window and compartment door immediately turned as pink as cotton candy. This only lasted for three seconds, then the color flickered and turned into a rather ugly mix of brown and bright red. Hagrid frowned, but Harry didn’t even notice.

“You’re like me!”, he said, childish excitement plastered on his face. Was this the Christmas this Santa had brought to him?

“Like yeh? I heard yer had some magical accidents that were apparently enough to finally alarm Dumbledore but I dunno the details.” Hagrid stopped swinging his stick.

“Do it again!”, Harry begged and tried to grab the stick himself. It had been snapped into pieces at some point, one could clearly see the tape and cracks, but it was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen.

“Don’t want to startle the muggles. Believe me, yer going to see way more impressive magic than something simple like that anyway.”, Hagrid said; but he seemed visibly proud by having impressed the boy. He held the stick out of Harry’s reach… which wasn’t hard, considering Hagrid’s overwhelming size.

“But I want to do it, too! I can never do it when I want to.”, Harry pouted.

“What did yer do, then? Can use some funny stories.”, Hagrid asked him, amused. “Yeh hexed some pimples on yer uncle’s face? Made them get the flees? God knows they would deserve it.”

Harry hesitated but decided that he was allowed to tell him. “I can make things disappear.” He counted. Hagrid furrowed his brows. “I can make Dudley hurt.” Hagrid’s smile fell. “And I can talk to snakes.”

For the first time since he saw him, Hagrid looked at Harry with something different than fondness and protectiveness. Harry had difficulties placing the emotion on his face.

It was pure horror.

**\- Nine years old -**

“That’s enough!”

Harry choked on his own tongue. He opened his eyes and tried to get a feeling of his surroundings. Everything towered high above him, overwhelming, confusing and… destroyed. Magic still crackled in the edges of the shattered cupboard, the holes in the walls, the shredded mattress… Harry’s eyes roamed over an old toy train, the first gift Albus had ever gave him, now broken into three pieces. And then he began to cry.

“My dear boy.”, Albus sighed, the hardness in his face slowly disappearing as Harry regained his consciousness. The smell of lavender mixed with ash greeted him while Dumbledore pulled him into his arms, very gentle, like a ticking time bomb. A time bomb that could be defused by hugs and gentle words.

“Are you angry?”, Harry asked, sobbing. They had fought, just a few seconds before. “I thought I got better. It was an accident, I swear. I didn’t want to!” He disappointed him, again, he knew that. He swore that he would never have outbursts like this again, but every time he lost his temper, he just… forgot. It took just a second and his magic took over, turning everything into a mess.

He was just so sick of being homeschooled. He tried to convince Albus for _years_ to let him go to a normal school – with other magic folks, or with muggles. But Albus didn’t trust Harry to go anywhere on his own because – because he was like this.

“Don’t worry, I know. Let’s just breathe. Try to calm your mind. It’s nearly daytime, the color of the sun light is rather lovely, by the way. Perfect day to go sailing, something I still want to do with you, like my brother did with me when we were young. Can you feel the sun on your face?”

Harry inhaled lavender, he heard magic, he saw bright red, he felt light.

He swallowed. “Do you think my soulmate has meltdowns, too?”, he asks in a small voice. Imagining another child out there with his kind of problems, maybe also just nine years old, made him feel a little bit better.

Soulmates. A strange business. Harry was obsessed with them since he first read about them in a book he had stolen out of Albus’ room. He still didn’t know much about them, only that they were very common in the wizard world. Everyone, without exception, was born with someone somewhere in the world who shared their magic capabilities. Like two sides of the same coin. Destiny always had plans for soulmates, it seemed very complicated to Harry every time Albus explained it to him. It also seemed wonderful to him, made him just as excited as magic did.

The topic was a common knowledge for magical folks but still not very well understood. Albus’ had told him that it was a subject he would learn about in Hogwarts in his first year, although most magical children already were prepared at an young age so they would recognize their soulmate if they met them young.

Muggles also had soulmates but they often missed each other, never knowing what could have been, no magic to connect them. Harry tried not to pity them because Albus reminded him that there was value in not having the knowledge about being soulmates, being free… he still was glad that he wasn’t a muggle.

Sometimes, of course, magical soulmates also weren’t destined to meet each other. Sometimes, they were destined to do even worse than ‘not meeting’, like killing each other. But it was just… it _fascinated_ Harry. It fascinated the whole wizard world, in fact… There were so many magic fairy tales, books and rumors around this subject. But Albus never allowed him to buy the charms and magazines.

A shadow flew over Albus’ face, too quick for Harry to place, then he already smiled at him again. “They share your potential when it comes to magical abilities. So, it’s even to be expected.”, he agreed lightly.

“I will get more control if I meet them, right? I will fulfill my destiny, right?”, Harry asked.

“Don’t rely too much on your soulmate, Harry. You have to learn how to control your magic on your own.”, Albus warned him and Harry could see in his face that this was the wrong thing to say. “And destiny is best treated to be unpredictable. It’s not proven that something like it even exists. ‘Soulmate’ is just a word, it shouldn’t become a self-fulfilled prophecy. Remember what I told you, much of what you will hear about it is romanticized or even untrue.”

“Why do I have to do it on my own? I will probably meet my soulmate in Hogwarts anyway! It doesn’t matter if I learn to it on my own now! It will be easier if I meet them.”, everything after the second sentence had pretty much fallen on deaf ears when it came to Harry.

“You don’t know when you will meet them and who they will be. Sometimes, soulmates aren’t the people we imagined them to be. Sometimes we’re even supposed to reject them.”, Albus told him sternly.

Albus rarely talked about his soulmate, but he was alone without Harry. He was also very powerful, despite not having someone to share his magic and life with, so maybe he decided that he didn’t need them. In Harry’s opinion, as much as he respected the old man, this was where he was wrong. Harry felt it deep inside his heart; the longing, the feeling that he was desperately needed somewhere and that someone had waited for far too long.

Harry didn’t know his soulmate, but he already decided that he would love them and never let go.

“I would never reject my soulmate.”, Harry claimed stubbornly. A lamp besides him toppled over, pushed by the sole tone of his words, and he winced, then shrank into a small pile of guilt.

Albus looked kind of lost, which was such a rare occurrence that Harry even forgot his shame for a second. There was an uncomfortable silence between while Albus stared at him and Harry stared back, nervously waiting.

And then, Albus smiled, swinging his wand. And just like that, the chaos around them corrected itself. The furniture flew into position, looking completely new. His toy train placed itself together like it was a puzzle, made to be fragmented and reassembled again. And Harry… Harry looked around, relieved and just as amazed as he was at the day he saw Hagrid charming the train interior. He couldn’t wait to be capable of intentionally doing something like this himself. “I’m sure your soulmate is going to be just as great and talented as you.”, Albus stood up.

Harry nodded, hiding his face against his knees. “I’m calm again.”

“Good. Do you want to continue our breakfast and then find something for you to do?”

“I want to eat breakfast.”, Harry told him quietly as he looked up into the old, wise face of Albus Dumbledore, his adoptive father and only family.

**\- Year Six –**

“Why couldn’t Voldemort kill me? When I was a baby, I mean?”

They stood in Albus’ office. With serious, old eyes Albus studied Harry’s face, and for a moment Harry was scared that he would only get some empty words. The scar on his forehead throbbed absently, as if it wanted to give him the answer. Harry was sick and tired of it if he was honest. He hadn’t even confronted Voldemort directly, something everyone seemed to expect from it, and he already wanted to give up and run. But he couldn’t, so he could only ask his questions and get no real answer.

“If you don’t want to tell me – “, Harry began.

“I have a theory.”, Albus interrupted him quietly.

“Which theory?”, Harry asked him, impatiently. “I think it’s important, we should figure it out. Tom probably won’t expect it so if we know the answer, we could surprise him.” He thought about the ambitious boy he had seen in Albus’ memories. Until this year, he had always seen Voldemort as some sort of… one-dimensional figure that was out to kill him. Thinking about him as some real person was weird.

“Please… sit.”, Albus requested of him and pointed to a chair besides Harry. Harry frowned but followed the request. “Harry, you are a very special boy. Well… I probably shouldn’t call you a boy anymore, you’ve grown too much.” His focused glance at him put Harry at unease.

“I don’t think I’m special.” He knew he wasn’t.

“You’re special to me, at least.”, Albus told him gently.

Harry swallowed. “You’re special to me, too.” The memories of Albus had long since overshadowed the memories he had of the Dursley’s.

A slight smile appeared on Albus lips, only to be chased away by dead seriousness again. “I really appreciate it, Harry. It was a joy to see you grow up.”

“Is the theory bad?”, Harry asked, confused. Albus rarely showed his emotions or said how much he cared for Harry. He was a good father and great man but… it often was like he couldn’t truly connect to Harry. He was always… just neutral. Never sad, never angry, never that loving. So, for Albus to say something like this, there had to be a reason.

“I assume that it’d be an undesirable revelation. I don’t know if I should tell you.”, Albus said. “I don’t think you want to know, and I fear about what will happen if I tell you. But maybe it’s really the key in the defeat of Tom Riddle. I still want you to have a choice, though. Are you sure you want to know?”

“Just tell me.”, Harry said immediately. Of course, he wanted to know.

“That’s what I thought.” Albus chuckled to himself. “Tom and I are quite alike nowadays, Harry. It’s why I understand him quite well.”

“What do you mean? You are not alike!”, Harry protested.

“Oh, I am. We both lived with incomplete soul bonds for a long time. Although I guess it would be more right to say that you and I are alike because I fear you will soon be in the position I was a long time ago, and after that you will understand him better, too.”

“What?” Harry asked, growing more confused with every second. Incomplete soul bonds… did Albus talk about soulmates, again? Moreover, did he talk about _his own_ soulmate? He never mentioned them before. Now that he thought of it, that would make sense. It would explain why Tom was so… psychopathic, for a better lack of words. People without their soulmates were fundamentally broken, so they said. Was Albus hinting that he had lost his soulmate, too?

Was he hinting that Harry would lose his?

“I think Tom Riddle is your soulmate, Harry.”

And Harry stopped short. Hold his breath. And… and everything fell into place. Their twin wands. The constant feeling of _him_ in his mind, in his _soul_. How his magic had immediately improved after meeting Voldemort for the second time, even if only half alive on the back of Quirrell’s head. Only after it he had learnt to control his magic. The way Harry had burned Quirrell’s skin just by touching him. How he had been fascinated by diary Tom, always thinking about him and what happened to him; strangely euphoric when he thought of possessing the diary from now on. How much it had destroyed him to stab the diary, when Fawkes came he not only thought that he would die, he _wanted_ to die. His ability to talk to snakes, the way he related to Tom’s childhood already, the way he was when Hagrid took him from the Dursley’s. And other countless things.

But he hated him. It couldn’t be. He was the worst person Harry could even imagine.

And still, most surprisingly, he wasn’t that horrified. He was… devastated.

“But he’s so old.”, Harry whispered, laughably one of the least disturbing things about this discovery.

“You’re right, this why it took me so long. I’ve never found a case like this and I specifically researched it.”, Albus answered, concerned.

“You…” Harry looked up, shock in his eyes. “You killed your soulmate, too, didn’t you?” It all made sense, now.

“I had to.”, Albus said, matter-of-factly.

“How are you still alive if you did that?” As far as Harry knew, nearly no one survived the death of their soulmate. Having half a soul… it was worse than having your soul sucked out by Dementors. Oh god. This was his future? “No, he can’t be my soulmate. You have to be wrong. This can’t be right.”

“I’m sorry, Harry.”, Albus’ whispered, in his words the weight of deep understanding. “I’m sorry to say, not only will you have to accept it, you will also have to kill him. It will be an act of self sacrifice, something only few people will be able to grasp.”

_I would never reject my soulmate._

Harry looked down on his clenched fists. “I can’t save him. I don’t even want to. It’s not fair.”

“It’s okay.”, Albus nodded. “You don’t have to save him.”

“No.” Harry’s heart grew cold. “I’m supposed to kill him? If he’s… my soulmate, I don’t know if I can.”

“You can and you will.”, Albus said with such a certainty that Harry shut down for a moment. Defeated.

After a little while, he murmured, “I think he unconsciously called out to me since I can think, you know. I don’t think he knows I’m his soulmate or that his soulmate is even alive, though. I tried to reach him… If I had been there, he wouldn’t be like that, would he?”

“You aren’t responsible, Harry. You weren’t even born.”

The pain Harry had always felt in his heart. The desperation that he couldn’t reach his soulmate, the indifference and anger and hatred that weren’t his. He had always been so sure that he could turn this around and save _the child_ that had needed him so badly, but the child had always been a man and the man had wanted to kill him. Had Voldemort known?

“What do I have to do?”, Harry whispered. He had always known that he was supposed to kill Tom so why did it feel like such a burden now?

“It’s not time yet. I will let you know.” Albus’ words were spoken like they were meant to be comforting but even Albus couldn’t solve such an impossible task.

**\- Year Seven** **–**

Lily, James, Sirius, Remus… Albus. They all surrounded him and Harry felt the finality of death on his shoulders, but also hopeless relief to see them again. The mother and father he had never gotten to know, the wise teacher that should have achieved so much more, his second godfather that had his life stolen and never really gotten back and Albus. Albus and his wise eyes that made Harry feel calm, sure, and proud. He could be here with him, now.

Harry stepped forward, breath shaking, and reached for his mom. But his hand went through her ghostly hand.

“You’ve been so brave, sweetheart.”, Lily said caringly.

“Why are you here, all of you?”, Harry asked. He had thought that he could maybe reach Albus’ when he had used the resurrection stone, he hadn’t expected all of them.

“We never left.”, Lily whispered and it took his breath. Harry looked down. It hurt seeing her and hearing it. He had always felt so alone, and he had thought that this was Tom but now he felt the loneliness falling off. He had never been alone. He wanted to cry but he didn’t.

Harry turned and went to Sirius, drinking in his face. “Does it hurt?”, he asked.

“Dying? Not at all. Quicker and easier than falling asleep.”, Sirius answered, reassuringly. Harry nodded lightly.

“You’re nearly there, son.”, his father added. Harry looked at him, too. This… fatherly expression that should have been there when Harry injured his knee when he was little, was scared of attending Hogwarts, had school subjects to complain about. Then he looked at Dumbledore, and he felt better. Strangely so because his heart was heavy.

“It’s time.”, Dumbledore told him, impossibly gently.

“You knew I had to die. You knew it would be the only way to destroy the horcruxes and that he wouldn’t be able to survive not having a soulmate this time.”, Harry whispered.

“I hope you’ll forgive me.” Dumbledore smiled, smiled in a way he never had before. Free. Genuine. “I only now understand how it was to have a son and I wish I had felt this when I was alive.”

The things he knew about him now… the way he had abandoned his little sister and brother and the way Aberforth had never forgiven him. The way Albus had talked about the ability to feel love as if it was the most precious thing in the world. _You don’t know what you have until you lose it,_ Harry thought. Just like Albus’ had lost the ability to love, to even feel much at all.

There had been a very dark side in Albus but he had still chosen good. Over and over again, with no reward or satisfaction. He could have been a monster after his soulmate’s death, looking for revenge or power. Just like Tom. “You were a good father despite of it.”, Harry said, serious.

“I wish I could have protected you.”

“You did most of the time. And I already had too people who wanted to protect me at any cost.” Harry swallowed and glanced at the others. “I'm sorry. I never wanted any of you to die for me. And Remus, your son...”

“Others will tell him what his mother and father died for. One day, he'll understand.”, Lupin said.

Harry knew too well. He nodded again and looked at Albus. He hoped Remus’ son would find someone that was half as great as Albus was. “You'll stay with me?”

“Until the end.”, James said.

“And he won't be able to see you?”

“No. We’re here, you see.”, Sirius said and pointed at his heart.

“Stay close to me.”

“Always.”, Lily said, and Harry opened his fist and let the resurrection stone fall out of his hand.

The forest was dark and there wasn’t enough time to prepare himself. It was impossible to feel fine with this. It was his destiny, though.

When Harry stepped in front of Voldemort, he didn’t feel ready but he also didn’t feel alone.

“Harry? No! What are yer doing here!”, Hagrid shouted but he barely heard him, looking into the mutilated face of Lord Voldemort.

“Quiet!”, someone hissed in the background.

There was silence, then… “Harry Potter.”, Voldemort said. Harry wondered if he could feel it. The soul magic. The… reunion. Harry noticed it for the first time consciously but he had felt it every time he had seen him. Like fireballs in his lungs, energizing him, making him brim with magic. “The boy who lived… comes to die.” No, Tom couldn’t feel it. Harry just knew it by looking at him. His soulmate had only a small piece of his soul left, after all.

“Sorry I came so late.”, Harry said quietly and closed his eyes.

Sirius was right. It happened quickly. Something green flashed through his eyelids and everything went quiet.

**\- 1943 –**

Harry took in a deep breath. The world around him began living again.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, you made it through the first chapter! Yeah! Bring the champagne!
> 
> I'm so excited to be writing this, it's my first soulmate AU; not to say, writing it about Tomarry will be a bit... complicated. I hope that I will do them justice. As you've maybe noticed, in this AU Harry is a bit more emotionally open and stuff like that. It's because he grew up with Dumbledore from age four and didn't get abused. (Albus took him in because he suspected Harry's connection to Tom for a long time.) I tried to pretend that this is the exact same world as it was in the books, just that the soulmate concept had its consequences.  
> If you're confused, Albus was a bit neglectful and didn't always have Harry's best interests at heart (as a father should) so that's why he's apologizing in the end. In this universe, if someone loses their soulmate (and survives it), they basically turn into a psychopath and only feel superficial, fleeting emotions. As long as your soulmate is on this world, you're fine, even if you don't know them, though. It's just their death (or non-existence) that makes you this way. (So I guess in this world, there are many psychopathic babies lol). What is admiring is that Dumbledore still was a good person.  
> Tom will be very complicated, too. He's not a real psychopath in this AU.
> 
> If you've enjoyed it, please leave a comment and let me know ;)


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